By mid-afternoon on day three, Lucas had made it around the pond twice and was on the inner most of his grid style search for herbs. He wasn’t able to practice his [Swordsmanship] with is mother like he had become accustomed to, but his father still had him work through the forms every morning and visualize a fight with various types of opponents. Lucas almost preferred this to getting beat daily by his mother. After his hour of sword practice, he ate breakfast, cleaned up the campsite and began his hunt for herbs near the pond. His father generally disappeared into the woods within an hour or two of Lucas beginning his search.

He was moving along the shore of the pond with his void cat following along behind. Yesterday, he had started training Mr. Snugglepuss to move to specific locations and perform a task. Sometimes he was sent to a tree and told to sit, others he was told to just remain where he was until called. Each time he completed the task, Lucas would reward his pet with a piece of his favorite jerky. When he refused to complete a task, like retrieving an item that Lucas indicated and taking it back to camp instead of bringing it to Lucas, he received a swat on the nose and an admonition of “bad cat”. Whether Mr. Snugglepuss even cared about the admonition was anybody's guess. Most of the time he just curled into a ball and went to sleeep.

As Lucas was working his way down along the shore, he noticed a small purple petal shaped like a star. His ability to spot herbs had become better over the past two days, and he was certain that he had glanced at this spot on the first day as he was walking to the stream. He slowly approached the shore. As he got closer, he confirmed that this was one of the rare plants on his list. The purple star lotus grew near fresh water, could be used in attribute potions, and was nearly impossible to find outside of high mana density areas like dungeons or beast ranges. The purple flower floated gently on top of the water at the edge of the shore, almost begging Lucas to pick it.

Lucas got down on his hands and knees on the shore and reached for the tantalizing plant. He was extra careful as he slowly plucked the flower from the stem. He didn’t want to damage the roots of the plant since it would possibly bloom again in one to two years. Just as he pulled the flower loose and placed it in one of the many pouches on his pack, he heard a low growl from his void cat. He turned his head to see what Mr. Snugglepuss was growling at only to be knocked sideways as his pet lunged forward. At the same time, a large pink tongue as thick as Lucas’ arm shot forward from the water to strike where Lucas had been kneeling.

The almost prehensile tongue latched on to his void cat and began to pull it towards the bulbous head of a giant frog that had emerged from the pond following the assault. The frog was huge, bigger than Mr. Snugglepuss, and had three oval eyes bulging from the slimy green flesh of its head. Mr. Snugglepuss immediately began clawing and biting at the appendage attached to its shoulder. Lucas recovered from his fall with grace born of his multiple practice sessions with his mother and immediately reached for the sword at his side, only to realize that he had left it in camp this morning to prevent it from catching on trees and roots as he scavenged for his herbs.

Without really thinking about it, he grabbed the small dagger that he used to cut his mark into trees or take cuttings from plants and quickly jabbed it into the tongue attached to his pet. The dagger, with its small eight-inch blade, barely pierced the tongue of the gargantuan amphibian as it began to retract its struggling meal. The panicking void cat was making slightly better progress as it began to rake its hind legs along the tongue, gouging out sections of flesh with its razor-sharp claws.

Lucas began to panic somewhat as he sawed at the tongue, making no progress, and decided to change targets. The only target he could see was the purple glowing eyes of the large frog. Lucas lunged at the head above the water, using one of the sword forms drilled into him by his mother and father since his training started. He focused every aspect of his being into a singular point, the middle third eye of the strange frog. His form was perfect, and he felt the mana in his body responding to his desperate need to save his only friend. As the small knife entered the strangely resilient eye, he felt his mana flowing through the tip and the resistance began to decrease. It wasn’t like slicing through butter, but Lucas could feel the knife digging deep into the skull of his opponent.

After what felt like hours, but was only a two or three seconds of real time and three or four seconds of modified time, the two-eyed amphibian released the suction like grip it had on the void cat and dived under the pond. This particular prey was too much for it, and it didn’t want to risk losing any other organs.

Lucas had enough time to realize that he was now waist deep in the pond before the blackness at the edge of his vision began to swiftly move inwards. The pounding headache and notifications let him know that he had burned through all of his mana by inadvertently using [Combat Focus] and some other skill by channeling his laughable mana pool into his knife.

As consciousness fled, Lucas began to tip forward into the pond, and his last thought before striking the water was, Dad is definitely going to know I was in the pond. Before Lucas flame red head could dive under the water, a large weathered hand grabbed the pack strapped to his pack and gently lifted him up from the water.

“You did good, cat,” Stan said. “Probably saved the boy’s life. I’m still not gonna’ call you by that ridiculous name, though.” Stan then gave the cat a treat and took his son back to camp where he could get him dry. There was time enough for recriminations later, but the first order of business was to make sure his son was okay.

Lucas woke up about two hours later. The sun was well past it’s zenith and there were only a couple of hours of daylight left. He was surprisingly dry and warm. Mr. Snugglepuss was curled tight against his back and his father’s blanket covered him.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

“Welcome back to the land of the living,” came the gruff voice of his father as soon as he opened his eyes. “I reckon when I said don’t go near the pond, what you must a’ heard was ‘go get eaten by a bloody big frog in the pond the second my back is turned’. That’s about the only damned way I can think of for you to be over there without asking me first.”

“I’m sorry, dad,” Lucas said. “I didn’t think there would be anything in the pond after what you said about the wyvern, and I saw a rare flower.”

“One day, son, your curiosity and your inability to sense danger are gonna’ get you or someone else killed.”

“Sorry, dad,” Lucas said, afraid to even look at his father and see the disappointment in his eyes.

“Well, what’s done is done. From now on, you gonna’ listen when I tell you somethin’s dangerous?” Stan waited to receive his sons nod yes before continuing. “I saw you do somethin’ with your dagger, reckon you picked up another skill. You get any notifications?”

“Yes, sir,” Lucas said. Scared that his father might decide he needed a whipping instead of just learning his lesson by almost getting eaten. He quickly focused on the notifications he received right after the fight with the man-eating frog.

Congratulations!

Combat Focus[Un] has leveled up.

Combat Focus[Un] Level 1 > Level 2

Combat Focus[Un] Level 2: Progress 1%

(Experience rewards for all levels gained in skill deferred until full System Access is acquired)

Congratulations!

You have learned the skill Keen Edge

By imbuing your mana into a weapon with the intent to increase damage, you have unlocked the skill Keen Edge. This skill increases the penetrating power and damage of your weapon.

Keen Edge Level 1: Progress 0%

(Experience rewards for all levels gained in skill deferred until full System Access is acquired)

“Well, that’s somethin’ right there. You’ve barely had combat focus enough to use it. You been practicin’ it non-stop since you got it?”

“No,” said Lucas louder than he intended, “I hate that skill. Other than the few times mom made me use it, I haven’t used it at all until today. I didn’t even try to use it. Now I have this stupid headache.”

Stan just stared at his son for a minute before slowly replying. “Son, you are one of the smartest kids I’ve ever met. Other than your tendency to get in trouble, you couldn’t be more well behaved or mature. Sometimes, that makes me forget that you’re just seven years old.” Stan came and sat down in on the ground next to where his son was lying.

“I saw how excited your ma was when you got that skill. Think back, how often have you seen your ma get that excited about something?” Stan stopped and stared at his son, waiting for a response.

“I don’t remember,” Lucas muttered.

“That’s right. The last time she got that excited was when you spelled your name at the age of two. Normal two-year olds can’t spell their names. Hell, some a’ the folks in the village can’t spell much more than their names or they leave their mark. That should give you a reference on just how impressive it is that you gained that skill while sparring with your mother. That don’t happen, son.

“Your ma is one of the best swordsmen that you’ll ever meet. She has several levels of rare [Swordsmanship]. The man who taught her was a grand master with an advanced class who created his own sword style. He spent three decades perfecting one specific strike to the point that nobody with less than fifty perception could even see it. That feat earned him [Combat Focus] out of real combat. The only other way to learn it is to put your life on the line, day in and day out. Warriors live and breath combat for years sometimes in order to gain that particular skill. Men and women die for their skills, son. Yet, you sit and whine about something that just saved your life because it gives you a little headache.”

Lucas didn’t reply. He just closed his eyes as tears slowly trickled out. His dad never raised his voice, but he could tell that the disappointment his father felt was profound.

“There’s a carcass on the other side of camp,” Stan pointed to where his kill from earlier lay. “I want you to skin it. I want you to do so with [Keen Edge] on your dagger. If I see you make a slice without the skill applied to the dagger, you’ll spend an hour in horse stance while balancing a bucket on your head and getting hit with a stick.” He paused for a moment before continuing with his instructions. “Tomorrow, you’ll wake up and use [Combat Focus] as soon as you wake up. When your mana comes back, you’re gonna’ use the skill again. Every day, as soon as you have the mana to use it, you’re gonna’ use the skill. We weren’t planning on mana training for a couple more weeks, but this’ll work. Consider the headache your punishment for almost gettin’ yourself killed today.”

Lucas slowly got up out of the bedroll and wiped his tears away. Without another word, he grabbed his bag headed to the carcass of some large rodent and pulled his dagger from its sheath while pulling something from one of his bag. Once he had the animal hanging from a tree, he ignored the massive headache and focused on his new skill. This was the first time he’d received an active skill, but he remembered the feeling as the mana had moved through his body and into the blade. With a grunt of effort, he forced the trickle of mana in his body into the blade in his hand. There was a slight glow, and the blade slipped easily into the flesh of the carcass.

Almost as soon as he’d started, he lost his focus on the skill and the blade became dull and lifeless again. With a sigh, he concentrated on his mana and reactivated his skill. Another slice, another pause, another activation. He repeated the process over and over. The skill didn’t take too much mana to activate, and he soon fell into a rhythm. Eyes red from his previous bout of crying, Lucas worked at skinning the small animal in front of him. Silently, he resolved to never take his skills for granted again. Had anybody been looking closely, they would have seen the tears in his eyes come back, not from sadness or even any sort of empathy for the animal in front of him. These were tears of pain, caused by the small thorn that Lucas held clasped tightly in his left hand. Every skill could be important, even something as difficult to level up as pain resistance